Daze
by Amireal
Summary: You have one of those days? (Slash warning, nothing major, but there will be smoochies)


Title: Daze  
Author: Amireal (amireal@amireal.slashcity.net)  
Archive: MA, my homepage when I get around to updating it, anywhere else, please ask  
Category: humor, romance (and a teeny bit of whumping)   
Rating: PG - 13  
Warnings: Um.. None?  
Spoilers: Not even the movies...  
Summary: Ever have one of those days?  
Feedback: Yes please...  
  
Disclaimer: *waves fingers* This is not the bank account you're looking for. Really. It wouldn't  
pay for more than 3 hours of your lawyer. Not worth it. They're not mine. But they were so  
pretty I had to play with them.  
  
*****  
  
Obi-Wan would have said it had been a shitty day, but it had been going on for at least 60 hours.  
At first, being honored with a solo mission while still being only a Padawan, a senior Padawan,  
but still a Padawan had been thrilling. The council had received an emergency request for aide  
from a small colony in the Entarii sector. He and Qui-Gon had helped establish the colony there  
some months ago, and had requested a face they'd known in order to keep the panic down to a  
minimum. Apparently, the integrity of their main structure was failing rapidly in the face of a  
severe hurricane.  
  
The request had come in while his Master was stuck with the healers, having succumbed to some  
sort of virus. He was rather contagious and Obi-Wan hadn't even been allowed to say good bye in  
person.  
  
Charged with the task of helping the colonists and determining why a structure rated far above the  
planetary guidelines could fail, Obi-Wan set off with his head held high. He returned exhausted,  
muddy, scratched, bruised and afraid if he stopped moving he might never start again.  
  
The council had requested his presence as soon as possible, so he appeared, holding the tattered  
remnants of his once cream uniform together and hoping that the squishing in his boots was only   
mud.  
  
The council seemed to take in his presence for a few moments before Master Windu spoke, "I  
know that we summoned you presently, but we would have allowed you the time to clean up."  
  
Obi-Wan ignored Master Windu's statement and cast a weary eye on the council, "I lost my pack  
somewhere on the planet and apparently there was an accident on several of the lower levels, the  
quartermaster's stores was flooded. They have not had time to fully recover."  
  
Master Windu nodded, "And your mission?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked up and wondered what in the name of the Force they could possibly be fishing  
for, "It sucked." He answered. He'd picked the slang up from some of the children. He found it fit  
aptly.  
  
Yoda's ears twitched. Ki Adi Mundi looked ready to stand up and chastise him. The rest of the  
council shifted restlessly in their seats. Master Windu gave him an exasperated look, "I was asking  
for details."  
  
Obi-Wan shifted the grip on his uniform, his hand was beginning to cramp. The movement caused  
a larger piece to flop down and reveal his dirty and bruised torso. He went to fix it when he just  
gave up and let the whole thing go. He simply closed his robe tighter and wondered why he  
hadn't thought of that before. "It was wet too." He told them without looking up.  
  
There was a bark of sound from Yoda. Mace let out a frustrated sigh. "Padawan-"  
  
"Wait." Yoda interrupted. "Reported he has. Successful the mission was?"  
  
Obi-Wan debated on instigating an argument on the definition of successful, but he realized that it  
might delay him further. "No one died, the structure collapsed, it was second rate and I'm  
surprised that no one noticed it before." Probably some factory worker had been asleep at their  
post.  
  
Yoda nodded, "Enough, that is. Unless something urgent there is, you may submit the rest  
tomorrow."  
  
In other words, don't call us, we'll call you. "No Masters. I don't think it was more than a  
defective stabilizing rod. It did not collapse with any discernable pattern."  
  
"Thank you, Padawan Kenobi." Mace said, obviously frustrated that he hadn't gotten that the first  
time around, "You may go."  
  
He left, limping slightly.   
  
Once in the lift, he let his body lean back and relax slightly. He took the weight off his left ankle, it   
was beginning to swell, only to remember why he had been favoring in the first place when his  
right knee which was definitely swollen began to throb. He shifted again and braced his arms on  
the railing and attempted to take as much weight as he could off his legs. Of course, the over  
stressed muscles of his back complained.  
  
He had yet to find a comfortable position when the lift finally opened. He spared only a quick  
glance at whoever was waiting for the lift, just enough attention so that he wouldn't run them  
over.  
  
"What's the matter Obi-Wan, can't even dress yourself anymore?" A voice called from behind.  
  
Bruck.  
  
He stopped. How they let the conceited, arrogant litt- control. A deep breath. He looked up and  
found that the other Padawan had let the lift go in favor of taunting him.  
  
"Why they let you disgrace the order like that I'll never understand." Bruck sneered.  
  
He couldn't lift his head all the way, so he simply glared upwards. "I haven't eaten, slept, taken a  
shower, or changed in well over two days... I'm too tired to do anything but the simplest of pain  
blocks and you are standing between me and at least one of those things." He reached out and  
gently, but firmly moved Bruck out of the way and continued walking. To his surprise, there was  
no retaliation. He made a note to look into that glare a bit more later on.  
  
He continued to stalk towards his rooms when something small and solid slammed into his bad  
knee. He flew forward automatically rolling to cushion the fall, but what ever had knocked him  
over had hit him at an angle and the roll was awkward, landing him on his shoulder. His back hit  
the floor and he untucked with a "Whumf!"  
  
A face swam before him, "Padawan, I'm so sorry!"  
  
It was another Padawan, young, just chosen probably, since Obi-Wan couldn't place him. "Just  
watch where you're going, Padawan."  
  
"I know, I'm sorry, I was just in a hurry, my Master reminded me I was late for class and-" the  
Padawan babbled.  
  
"I know." He interrupted. "Just go and try to be more careful."  
  
The boy looked him over once more and disappeared down the hallway.  
  
Obi-Wan slowly rolled over, feeling all of his muscles protesting. Thankfully there was a wall  
nearby. Bracing himself carefully he pushed up, only to have his boot slip on some errant mud that  
he had been carrying and slide out from under him. He landed on his knees. His knees were not  
happy, especially the more injured of the two.  
  
Wincing, he crawled a little ways till there was a break in the wall paneling and pulled himself up  
carefully. This time he made it fully upright. He stalked, as well as we he was able to and finally  
reached his rooms.  
  
Smacking the panel next to the door, it slid open with a quiet *swish* of air. He stalked in and hit  
the panel on the inside with even more force. The door apparently did not get the picture because  
it slid shut with its customary gentle precision. He stared at it for a few moments before launching  
forward and ripping the panel off of the wall. Fiddling with the tension on the springs, as well as a  
few other things that he wasn't supposed to be able to control from that panel, he finally leaned  
back, satisfied.  
  
He triggered the mechanism and watched the door open. He triggered it again and grinned  
gleefully. It now made a nice solid, LOUD *THUD* as it closed. He found it was a pleasing and  
satisfying sound and so he did it several more times.  
  
Obi-Wan was making little noises that sounded suspiciously close to giggling. He stopped  
abruptly when he realized he sounded like Yoda, when he was drunk on Corellian wine.  
  
He closed the door one last time and began mumbling the mantra, "Food, shower, sleep. Food,  
shower, sleep."  
  
He moved to the little kitchen that was provided in their suite and began making whatever was  
quickest. Thankfully, he'd thought ahead for the week, and his Master had not been home since  
he'd left to use up what he'd left behind. So all he had to do was take out one of the bags from  
the cold store and throw it on the stove.  
  
While the food was warming up he began to carelessly brush off the worst of the encrusted mud  
and gook from his uniform, thinking that he might be able to salvage it for something. A  
particularly stubborn bit was resisting his efforts so he used a bit of Force to flick it off. Of course,  
he wasn't watching where it was going and didn't see it end up in the flame. He did, however see  
the large whoosh of fire engulf the pot and most of the stove.  
  
The kitchen's anti-fire systems worked perfectly and doused the whole room with the synthetic  
substance that seemed so good at putting out fires. Of course, Obi-Wan happened to be in the  
room when it happened and thus ended up more dirty than when he started.  
  
When the system turned off, one very burnt pot and one very annoyed Padawan remained. "The  
stuff was flammable." He muttered. "Why aren't things like *that* in the mission briefing."  
  
Deciding to forgo food for a few more hours until he could obviously handle the responsibility of  
an open flame, he headed to the bathroom.  
  
He turned on the water and went to remove his now definitely destroyed uniform. He didn't even  
bother looking in the mirror, too afraid to see what new and amazing shade of purple his skin had  
taken on.  
  
He tiredly stepped in, only to let out an indignant yelp of surprise and jump right back out. The  
water was cold. Not cold but frigid. He peered at the controls closely. Yup, not set on cold. Not  
sure his senses were correct he stuck a tentative hand into the stream. Ice cold. He stabbed at the  
controls to turn them off and reached for a towel.  
  
The first one he picked up was rather small, he reached for another only to find that there weren't  
any. Wrapping the towel as firmly around himself as he could he stalked to the comm unit to  
order more. Of everything.  
  
The first message he found was from the quartermaster's office announcing that they wouldn't be  
able to fill any outstanding orders until that evening and any new orders until at least tomorrow.  
  
The second message was from maintenance: some rooms on the lower levels might be  
experiencing water difficulties, they should be fixed by tomorrow.  
  
The next message was from his Master:  
  
*** Obi-Wan,  
  
I am sorry that I could not speak to you in person before you left, but I am confident that your  
mission will not only be a success, but that you will complete it with startling ease.  
  
On another note, I've heard that there has been some flooding and water problems. If you get  
back before me, please inspect the room to make sure there has been no damage. I also recall that  
we seemed to be out of towels. Could you put in a request as well?  
  
I hope to see you soon, Padawan.  
Qui-Gon***  
  
Obi-Wan stared at the screen in mild shock before muttering, "Yes, Master. Whatever you say,  
Master. Shall I bend over for you, Master? Take it like a man, Master?"  
  
He finally gave up hit his head on the comm unit. Another satisfying thud. He did it again. And  
again.  
  
The door swished open, "Padawan?" A deep voice asked, "I felt your distress halfway across-"  
*THUD* the door closed and Qui-Gon let out a little sound of surprise. "Halfway across the  
temple." he finished warily, "Are you alright?"  
  
*thud*  
  
*thud*  
  
*thud*  
  
"Padawan, are you well? I'm sensing some uneasiness from you." Qui-Gon continued.  
  
Obi-Wan cast a baleful glance at his Master, noting that he was looking a him with a mixture of  
concern and mild amusement. He continued with what he was doing.  
  
*thud*  
  
*thud*  
  
*thud*  
  
"Padawan? The healers announced that I wasn't contagious anymore and I left as soon as  
possible. Please tell me what is wrong." Qui-Gon's voice had taken on a slightly pleading tone.  
Perhaps it was an effort to sound less like his Master and more like a friend.  
  
Obi-Wan ignored that for the moment and continued on.  
  
*thud*  
  
*thud  
  
*thu-*  
  
He stopped the last one just in time as his brain caught up with what Qui-Gon had said. His head  
shot up, "You're not contagious anymore?"  
  
Qui-Gon blinked at what he must have felt was a rapid change in subject. "That's what the healers  
say."  
  
Obi-Wan pressed on, "And they're sure?"  
  
"They wouldn't have let me go other wise."  
  
Obi-Wan stood up, "Good." he said and began to carefully step towards his Master. "Then I'm  
going to do this before something large and heavy falls on one of us."  
  
Qui-Gon looked a little baffled, but began to back away even as Obi-Wan was stalking forward.  
  
He must being doing that glaring thing again. He seriously had to look into that.  
  
"Obi-Wan," his master practically squeaked, "Your towel is falling."  
  
"Good." he muttered as Qui-Gon finally came to rest leaning on a wall. "It'll only get in the way."  
He reached out and tangled his hand into Qui-Gon's soft locks and tilted the other's head to one  
side, slanting his lips in the opposite direction, he mashed them together.  
  
Surprise kept Qui-Gon from moving at first, but as shock wore off and pleasure began to build, he  
could do no more than simply ride it out. Obi-Wan had pressed his body firmly against his and  
was doing his level best to simply merge into him. Arousal curled inside them and caught hold of  
their actions.  
  
Finally, tearing away, Qui-Gon gasped for a few moments, "Padawan, Obi-Wan, what is going  
on?"  
  
He hissed in pain as Qui-Gon's hands dug into sore muscles in his arms before refocusing on kiss  
swollen lips. "I am taking advantage of the fact that I am so tired I could probably be counted as  
out of control, to brighten my otherwise dreary and miserable day," He paused for a moment,  
"days." With that he jumped in again, not giving his Master the chance to respond.  
  
Qui-Gon appeared to give in again, as he let out a small whimper and joined the fray, but soon he  
was pulling away, giving Obi-Wan's body an expert once over. "Force! What happened to you?"  
  
Obi-Wan blinked, "Did you know that it was possible for water to hit with enough force to  
bruise?" The surprised look on his Master's face said no. "Don't worry, I'm hardly feeling it  
now." Obi-Wan pressed his body more firmly against the larger one, his mouth seeking out the  
soft skin at the juncture between the neck and shoulders.  
  
"Obi-Wan," His Master gasped, "How long has it been since you've slept?" The older man  
managed to get out between shudders.  
  
Obi-Wan's hands were making quick work of the sash and the outer tunic, "Not sure anymore, I  
lost track around 50 hours." Finally it swung open leaving only the thin under tunic covering the  
finely muscled chest. He let his fingers map it, stopping at occasional peaks of interest.  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's restless voice said, "you really aren't in control of all your faculties." Was  
that a tinge of regret?  
  
Obi-Wan look up and into his Master's eyes, "Yes I am." He plunged forward one more time, this  
time entangling their legs so that he could rock his hips in a sensual manner.  
  
Qui-Gon's hands forced him to stillness, "Obi-Wan as enjoyable as this is, we must talk first."  
  
Obi-Wan did not still his hands as he leaned back and rolled his eyes, "Talk. Talk, talk, talk, talk.  
That's all you ever do. That's all WE ever do. Sometimes I'm surprised that the Order as a whole  
doesn't come down with laryngitis on a regular basis." He reached for Qui-Gon's tunic and ripped  
it over his head.  
  
He couldn't get enough, his hands couldn't get everywhere fast enough and his lips decided that  
there was too much to feast on, so they dove back to Qui-Gon's mouth in an effort to taste  
everything the other man had.  
  
Qui-Gon appeared to give in for a few moments, letting out a low moan and shifting his grip more  
solidly around Obi-Wan's body. They tangled arms and legs, fingers and hair mingled and touched  
and felt and absorbed sensation until finally Qui-Gon ripped himself away again. "Stop, Obi-Wan.  
If we let anything happen right now, I have the feeling it would be akin to one of us being drunk,"  
he traced callused fingers down Obi-Wan's face and across swollen lips, "And neither of us  
deserves that."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation. "I love you. You love me. I want to fuck. I don't see the  
problem."  
  
Qui-Gon blinked. "You love me?"  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, "I thought I was the overtired one, catch up."  
  
Qui-Gon brought his hand up again tentatively and started to stroke the soft, spikey, dirty hair in  
awe, "You love me." He said again.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded absently leaning into the caress. A soft purr came from the back of his throat  
and his eyes closed in pleasure. "Mmhmm."  
  
"Now we really need to talk." Qui-Gon murmured.  
  
Obi-Wan didn't reply. His body relaxed even more and he emitted a soft snore.  
  
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon questioned. The body in his hands just slumped forward with alarming  
speed. He barely had enough time to catch him. Letting out a soft chuckle, he shook his head  
fondly at his Padawan and whispered, "Obi-Wan."  
  
With a soft sigh, Qui-Gon picked up the sleeping man in his arms and took him to the nearest  
bedchamber, which happened to be his own.  
  
Since Obi-Wan was already naked it was rather easy to simply coax him under the blankets. He  
removed his own boots and slid in beside him. Obi-Wan turned into his warmth and nuzzled,  
"Mmm... fuzzy..." came the muzzled voice.  
  
Qui-Gon raised an amused eyebrow and settled down to sleep.  
  
******  
  
Obi-Wan remembered waking up just enough to shift position and then promptly falling back to  
sleep again several times. He vaguely recalled it hurting just a bit more each time.  
  
When his mind finally achieved a state of consciousness that resembled wakefulness he tried to  
open his eyes.  
  
"Ow... owowowow." Who knew you could sprain those muscles?  
  
He looked around carefully, trying not to move. How did he get here? Where was here? Then his  
memory started to slowly trickle back. "Oh Force." He mumbled to himself, "Did I really say that  
to the council? Did I really say that to my Master?" He paused thoughtfully. "Did Bruck really  
just walk away?" He really had to look into the glare more.  
  
He was still inspecting his surroundings when Qui-Gon entered wearing only his leggings and  
outer tunic, the latter open and swinging gently as he walked, in his hands was a tray. A delicious  
smell wafted towards him which confirmed his suspicion that it held food. "Good afternoon,  
Padawan."  
  
Afternoon? How long had he slept? "Master." He looked around once more, "How did I get  
here?" He asked, only now coming to the conclusion that he was laying in his Master's bed.  
Naked. Oh dear. "What exactly did I do yesterday?"  
  
Qui-Gon's lips quirked in an amused smile, the movement sent a hot flush through him. "That, my  
Padawan, is a conversation that should probably be left until after you've eaten."  
  
"That bad?"  
  
Qui-Gon placed the tray on the bed, "Not that bad. Now eat." Qui-Gon settled himself on a chair  
a few feet away and waited.  
  
Since it was obvious that Obi-Wan wasn't going to get anything else out of him until he did what  
he was told by both his Master and his stomach, he ate. The simple meal was like ambrosia to his  
pitifully empty stomach. He practically inhaled a good portion of it before he noticed that Qui-  
Gon was still there, sitting... staring. Weird little shivers were running up and down his spine.  
What HAD he done? A few more bites and he had gained the courage to ask.  
  
Qui-Gon looked him straight in the eye and without batting an eyelash said, "You lost your  
towel."  
  
He felt a deep blush spread across his face, "I did?"  
  
Qui-Gon nodded, "You did. On purpose."  
  
Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands. "I don't think I want to know the rest."  
  
His Master stood up and crossed the room, "I think you should." He knelt down next to the bed,  
"It's probably not as bad as you think."  
  
Obi-Wan peered up through his hands. "You have no idea what I'm thinking."  
  
Qui-Gon grasped his hands and pulled them away from his face, "I think I have a very good idea."  
He looked at him intensely for a few moments before continuing. "You said some things that I'd  
rather like to hear you repeat now that you're a bit more coherent."  
  
Obi-Wan studied the larger hands framing his and said, "Master, I'm afraid you're going to have  
to give me more than that to go on, I'm not sure what was a dream and what wasn't."  
  
Qui-Gon leaned forward and untangled one of his hands and pulled aside his tunics to reveal what  
could only be described as a large hickey.  
  
Obi-Wan bit back a startled gasp, "Master, I'm sorry, I wasn't in my right mind, I would have  
never..." He trailed off not sure what to say.  
  
Qui-Gon released the tunic and shook his head, "What you did is unimportant, what you said is."  
  
"And what did I say?"  
  
"In your effort to get," he coughed a bit, "fucked. You said that you loved me."  
  
Obi-Wan's head shot up with no sympathy for his tortured muscles, "I said WHAT?"  
  
Qui-Gon shook his head, "Don't worry. What I need to know is if you meant it."  
  
"If I meant it?"  
  
Qui-Gon leaned forward again and recaptured his hands, "Do you love me?" He turned serious  
eyes on his Padawan and awaited an answer.  
  
Obi-Wan was struck speechless. "I... uh... I..."  
  
"There is no wrong answer, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon assured him, "I just need to know."  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let the deep voice of his Master wash through him. If there were no  
consequences to his answer then so be it. "Yes." He managed to get out, still not looking up.  
  
Qui-Gon traced his fingers down his face in a very familiar fashion, gently tilting it to meet his  
eyes, "In love with me?"  
  
Pulling his own hand up to meet the one on his face, Obi-Wan answered, "Yes."  
  
A large smile split Qui-Gon's face, "I'll have to remember that you're much more perceptive  
when you're sleep deprived. We'll have to work on that." At Obi-Wan's confused face he went  
on, "You had already figured out that I love you too."  
  
Obi-Wan continued to be confused for several more seconds before understanding reached his  
eyes.  
  
"That's right Obi-Wan, I love you too." Qui-Gon confirmed for him again. He gently pressed his  
lips to Obi-Wan's slowly, reminding him of what had transpired the evening before.  
  
Somewhere between Qui-Gon's happy moan and his electric shock of pleasure, it all clicked back  
into place and he wrapped his arms around his Master and pulled him onto the bed.  
  
Thus Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon found themselves once again entangled, this time horizontally,  
making out like teenagers.  
  
A small gasp of pain from Obi-Wan made Qui-Gon stop and stare at him expectantly.  
  
"I'm sorry Master, as wonderful as this is, I feel like one giant bruise and you're laying right on  
top of me." His voice was sad. He didn't want to let his Master go.  
  
Qui-Gon shifted off his apprentice and arranged himself next to Obi-Wan. "Its alright." He lightly  
caressed the exposed skin on Obi-Wan's chest. "We're not done talking anyway."  
  
Obi-Wan collapsed back onto the pillow and muttered, "Argh."  
  
"I see you've lost coherency again."  
  
He eyed his Master with a raised eyebrow. "You are probably the most frustrating man alive."  
  
Qui-Gon smiled. "Me? You're the one that's naked."  
  
Slowly rolling onto his side, Obi-Wan traced a slow line down Qui-Gon's cheek, past his collar  
bone, through the valley of his chest, and down to his abdomen. Spreading his palm flat on the  
strong muscle, he said, "You're not much better, at the moment."  
  
Qui-Gon spread his hand over the one touching him, "I suppose not, but that does not negate the  
fact that we have much to discuss."  
  
"Well I had plans to use my lips, even make some noises..." Obi-Wan trailed off, lightly skimming  
the sea of skin before him.  
  
"Careful, my Obi-Wan, one might think that you are still short on sleep."  
  
Obi-Wan shrugged, "I find it hard to be bashful when we are both wear so little clothing," He  
traced Qui-Gon's lips, "and when we both bear the marks of passion."  
  
Qui-Gon swept in for another deep kiss. They separated by a hairs breath and he spoke again, "I  
wish to do this properly. Not to have it be some clandestine affair."  
  
Obi-Wan dipped forward and tasted his Master again. "And how would we make this proper?"  
  
One more kiss, a slow, languid affair, full of meaning and a tinge of desperation. It left them  
breathless. "First I must find the strength to remove myself from this bed and then contact the  
council about our intentions."  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, "I always thought that rule was made so that those stuffy old voyeurs  
could keep up on the temple gossip without any sense of impropriety."  
  
Qui-Gon smiled, "That's probably true, but we should tell them anyway. They'd never believe it."  
  
"Believe what?"  
  
He cupped Obi-Wan's cheek, "That you, my eternally straight and narrow Padawan, would do  
something so reckless."  
  
Obi-Wan's cheeks colored as he remembered his earlier council session, "Um... Master..."  
  
THE END 


End file.
